


Ground Zero

by ModernArt2012



Series: With Enough Coffee Nothing Is Impossible [1]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: But Deserves Anyways, But that would take out the fun, Coffee, Coffee was Abused while writing this, Crack, EMTs/EMS, Ensemble Cast, Firefighters, Gen, Get with it, Hijinks & Shenanigans, I could tag everything, Pokemon GO - Freeform, The Coffee Shop Fic This Fandom Does Not Need, The Police - Freeform, This Is A Disaster, because I wrote it, coffee shop AU, inexplicable unexpected events, it's a series of events, look - Freeform, lots of coffee, pastry, so much crack, sorta - Freeform, tagging everything would ruin the surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernArt2012/pseuds/ModernArt2012
Summary: Clint, by way of Disaster™, gains a coffee shop. They really ought to have checked the legality of Clint's property acquisition process.(There are Hijinks. There are Shenanigans. There are explosions, but only after the second act. It is a Disaster.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lost_in_dark_places](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_dark_places/gifts).



> It's been over a year since I had this idea. And by "I" I mean my tumblr chat log would definitely tell you I had about 40% to do with the original idea, and then it snowballed. And by "snowballed" I mean Lost said some things, then I ran with it. As ever, for this and for being the inspiration to my Disaster, among other things, this is for the one and only Lost. Who does not complain when I have a plot bunny and chase it , or send her exclamation points and crazy ideas. For all the support and for how purely happy I am to know someone so singularly wonderful; for putting up with the lost drafts and crazy brain blasts when I was stuck. 
> 
> (Also, many thanks to the great humans on the Discord, thanks for helping with the ending! Y'all are great!!!!!) 
> 
> I'm trying out a new style, so I'd appreciate if you let me know if you enjoyed it or not, or if the links are broken etc! First time working hmtl like this to be honest. 
> 
> In any case, I do hope you enjoy!

Clint, by way of Disaster™, gains a coffee shop 1.

 “We really ought to investigate the legality of you gaining ownership of property via physical altercation.”

“Someone’s read a dictionary recently.”

“Perks of having your own Legal Department.” Kate swung her legs through the air from her perch on a bar stool.

“How’s the Corporate Takeover of Bishop Publishing going? Here, try.” Clint fiddled with the many buttons and wands of the chrome (purple!) machine, thrusting a tiny shot glass of dark brown liquid over.

“Okay, I guess; less Evil Capitalist Takeover due to the legal inheritance and more House Cleaning? Tony’s giving me pointers. And this could wake the dead.” Kate’s face pinched at the first sip, but downed the rest with the enthusiasm of a dog eating pizza.

“….. Hmmm, one more press through?”

“ _Are_ you trying to raise the dead? Because that’s on the ‘List of Things Hawkeye is Not Allowed to Do, Attempt, and/or Mess With (This Means You Clint)’.”

“….. The List is just a general guideline, really.”

“….. That’s not a ‘no.’“

“Look, Kate, we’re _Hawkeyes_. Hawkeyes know coffee. It’s practically a requirement.”

“We have requirements?” Kate’s face betrayed her skepticism.

“We would if either of us ever got around to codifying them?” Clint considered with a squint.

Kate sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “I have to go meet Billy, try not to blow anything up.”

“Do or do not, there is no ‘try’.” Clint called as she exited the shop.

“You’re only saying that because _Star Wars_ is making a comeback!”

{Predictably, nothing gets blown up - it’s only the first act after all, things generally don’t explode until the 3rd or 4th act.}

* * *

 

Officially, Clint is just a really really good marksman in the employ of a Vague and Shadowy Government Organization2 .

Unofficially, he (currently) runs a coffee shop called (quite pithily), “Coffee Shop”3 .

{To be fair, however, the locals call it “Ground Zero”, due to …. well, spoilers, but we’ll get to that. However, the puns were fully intentional.}

Officially, the Avengers have no comments regarding its’ members daily lives and activities that they partake in outside of their superhero jobs as long as they remain within the boundaries of the law 4.

Therefore, officially, the Avengers have no comment about Clint **or** his coffee **or** anything related to those topics.

Unofficially, Steve, Nat, Sam, Bucky, Rhodey, and Tony maintain the position that Clint’s coffee could act as paint stripper, drain cleaner, and probably disintegrate adamantium and vibranium (no one’s tested it), and most likely qualified as a toxic spill and danger to the environment (no one’s tested it). Simultaneously, they will be the first to fight you for a cup and maintain by way of extortion, blackmail, and outright fixing the vote that it Could Wake the Dead, But We’re Not Going to Test that Theory*.

* because no one wants to fight a Clint-Induced Zombie Apocalypse, thanks 5.

Unofficially, it’s the various superheroes traversing out to BedStuy to get their coffee fix that tips Them off and snowballs into a calamity of epic proportions.

 

Unofficially.

* * *

 

“Hi, Mrs. Lalani! Your usual? That will be right up for you!”

“See, Katie-Kate, this is what a coffee shop is _supposed_ to be like. Not some hipster-y pretentious pit of lies and slander.”

“Someone’s read urban dictionary.com recently.”

* * *

 

 

The person to “out” Coffee Shop’s existence (so to speak) is ~~Billy~~ Clint via the medium of Billy’s twitter. Because Billy enjoys taking selfies with Teddy and Clint is a master spy/assassin/ photobomber 6.

Unpredictably, this does not crash Twitter. (Billy’s civilian profile only has so many followers, and Clint is not the most popular of Avengers.) However, one of those followers happens to know a person who knows a dog’s human who knows a lady who knows a person who knows how to hack and can be convinced to set a certain location as a gym in Pokémon Go 7.

 

It is this effective Lure of Coffee and Pokémon that brings Rhodey and Sam in 8.

* * *

 

(To be fair, it’s a picture of Sam, Rhodey, and Clint in a suspicious flowery apron clustered around a table as Sam and Rhodey attempt to beat each other in conquering the gym that breaks the Internet.

 

Clint maintains it’s all Billy’s fault, fight me, oh god not really Wanda, Pietro help.)

* * *

 

 

“Uh, can I get a triple venti, double blended – “

“I think you’re at the wrong coffee shop.”

“What.”

“You’re ordering fake coffee. At a place that does not sell fake, burnt coffee. Q.E.D, you are at the wrong coffee shop.”

“Excuse me?”

Clint points to the chalkboard wall, which reads “Ground Rules” 9.

  1. We serve coffee.
  2. Not burnt coffee using pretentious made up
  3. Read the menu. Order from the menu. Using English or the appropriate Italian.
  4. Blood, viscera, serious bodily injury or intent to cause such are grounds for refusal of service and ejection from premises.
  5. We reserve the right to ban offenders of any of the stated rules, or those who cause a disturbance to other guests. Also villains from any dimension.
  6. (Yes, we are Hawkeye. This is our day job. Yes there is more than one Hawkeye.)



The woman huffs, clearly frustrated. “Fine. Can I have a large iced coffee with non-fat milk.”

“Sure. I’ll be right up.”

The lady hesitates at the counter.

“Yes. Yes that is Captain America and a dog. It is very adorable. Next in line please?”

* * *

 

 

They have a dedicated Twitter and Instagram tags (#coffeeshop, #whosthathero, and because people know a good thing when they see it, #pizzadog) before the first (real) Incident 10.

Some contingent of Madam Masque’s goons and Tracksuit Mafia that had yet to get the memo that the Hawkeyes had effectively dismantled their organization and financial backers decided that bro, Hawkeye deserved to have his stuff messed up, bro. Then tried to hold up a coffee shop owned by two heroes and was (currently) hosting various recipients of the Super Solider Serum.

Things did not go quite as planned 11.

* * *

 

(Transcript from holding cell)

“Bro that did not go as planned bro.”

“Bro, I know, bro.”

“I never seen so many supes in on place before bro.”

“I know bro.”

“…. Bro that did not go as planned.”

(transcript cut for length.)

 

* * *

 

 

(Overheard on the street outside the Coffee Shop, after Incident.)

“Smitty, this coffee…..”

“Yeah, it tastes just like Sarge used to make.”

*silence*

“Hey, this place is a Gym! … Team Valor has it. Hold this, gotta take this for Team Mystic” 12.

 

* * *

 

A thing one must realize is that every cop searches for the perfect cup of coffee 13.

If they should find that elusive perfect cup, they are bound by the bonds of brotherhood to inform their fellow police, who must then go and try said cup that they may defend _their_ choice of perfect coffee 14.

{This is how the Coffee Shop got infiltrated, slowly and nefariously, by the police 15.}

First it was only a handful of cops pausing mid shift for a hot coffee. Maybe a pastry. Maybe an entire pastry case16 . (That resulted in Lucky becoming an Honorary Police Dog, since apparently anything more would be Highly Suspect. More on the pastry later though.)

Then it increased to a predictable wave of cops coming on or getting off shift, stopping by on their way home or to the station for a to go cup and a friendly face (and maybe a quick check of who exactly was in the neighborhood and/or On Call to deal with the Villain of the Day).

But then the _requests_ came. A precinct in Brooklyn wanted to cater his coffee beans, or have fresh deliveries of Clint’s brew and _the scones_. Half of Manhattan’s police officers threatened to strike if Brooklyn got a mainline of Coffee Shop coffee.

It quickly devolved into factions of law enforcement with sub-unions by borough and sub-union representatives being elected in order to attempt to keep things professional. It almost worked, until Long Island was caught by IA’s coalition trying to break into One Police Plaza and force the issue with the Commissioner. 

Beyond the fact that everyone had expected it to be Queens that revolted (they simply hadn’t been caught, but had an elaborate scheme in the works involving wiretaps and bugging the Coffee Shop for video of how the coffee-making process occurred – _it wasn’t patented, fair game!_ ), it did cause an internal Civil War worse than when the mobs ruled the major cities and dirty police were the norm. Really, there were a fair number of closed-door tap room brawls and shady back alley alliances, not to mention out right mafia tactics that had the actual mobsters fearing for their lives.

{The status quo was upset. The status quo was heavily upset. A good portion of the nominally religious mobsters saw this as a Sign From Above and gave up a life of crime to take up the Cloth} 17.

Not that any random citizen would have known, as a certain VASGO kept things all quiet on the public front, but it took the intervention of the sanitation services going on strike in protest from all the clean-up they had to do overtime in order to break the police out of their deadlock 18.

* * *

 

“Clint, you started a Civil War among the police force. Also, why are you in the air ducts, the Police Commissioner is here.”

“ _I TOLD YOU THE POLICE ARE NEFARIOUS. THEY HOSTILELY OCCUPY MY COFFEE SHOP, THEN THEY DEVOLVE INTO FISTICUFFFS AND CIVIL WAR BREAKS OUT. AND BUCKY AND/OR SAM SHOVED STEVE’S PET RACOON UP HERE._ ”

“Clint, the Commissioner can hear you. The air ducts echo.”

“ _NO HE CAN’T_. _NO, RACOON DON’T BITE – owwww owwww owwww.”_

“Actually, Mr. Barton, I can hear you.”

“ _KATE, HELP HE CAN HEAR ME. ALSO, DO RACOONS HAVE RABIES? ESPECIALLY TALKING ONES._ ”

“So, Mr. Commissioner, about next week’s delivery to your offices…?”

* * *

 

So the grabbing of a raccoon in the air vents was a Mistake – and so were the subsequent rabies vaccines he had to receive. That’s fine. Clint would everyone to know that he has made Mistakes before. These Mistakes include, but are not limited to: creating a boomerang arrow that bent the rules of reality, failing to take advantage of the Carnies who were going to teach him to cook, and asking Steve for scone baking advice and getting outsourced to one James Buchanan Barnes, who apparently is a Scone Baking Legend in Brooklyn. Even some 70 years later.

This is a Mistake on all accounts, namely due to someone (some _thing?_ ) named Sheila. Clint maintains that Sheila is his (though pretty much every woman in his life is quite decidedly not named Sheila, even as a pseudonym, Nat even triple checked), Bucky maintains that Sheila is his, and then the locals of BedStuy have to turn a blind eye to back alley scuffles over a _frilly floral print apron_ 19.

{There are other reasons Bucky Baking is a Mistake, but those are better described by anecdote than second hand.}

(This still does not excuse Clint or Kate from having to fish out the stray arrows from the neighborhood satellite dishes, to the collective Hawkeye chagrin.)

* * *

 

“No Mr. Shea, we do not sell the recipe for scones. This is a Coffee Shop.”

“Ms. Bishop, I assure you, Mrs. Lalani told me she had bought the recipe for some _ridiculous_ price, so the recipe is available for sale.”

“Mr. Shea, no one but the baker knows the recipe.”

“Well, if you’re quite insistent. I would like this baker’s contact information.”

Given that this is in fact the fourteenth person to ask her about this in the past 24hours, Kate has the reply ready to roll off her tongue, “We do not give out the baker’s information; he has requested privacy and the Coffee Shop Management will hold true to its word.”

“*Sigh* Do you take orders, then? The scones are to _die_ for, and the Neighborhood Association is meeting next week?”

__

Kate really ought to have known that fourteen “ _inquiries”_ about _scones_ were entirely too few for the amount of adoration heaped upon the scones. Not only does Steve angrily storm in after a particular VASGO finds evidence of a complete black market bidding war with steadily rising prices for the recipe for _scones_ , but then the situation has the audacity to devolve 20.

It would have been fine if it had ended with black market scone-recipe trading, even if they were all dupes. But it turned into ambushes. Of Bucky. In the early morning. And everyone completely forgot that Captain America, Steve “Fight Me” Rogers did not take too kindly to that – didn’t the first time, in the War, and definitely not now. And so Steve took to making his morning run along with Bucky Barnes, at the dignified pace of an octogenarian making his way from Queens to BedStuy, Brooklyn, with a few ambushes to keep things interesting. 

And when those ambushes failed 21, then the starving masses took to _tailing a hypervigilant set of soldiers._ Bucky took to hiding knives again, something that Sam had only recently broken him of. Backup was called in. Police were directed to other parts of Brooklyn, because the police and Clint had recently fallen out. Clint ended up in more dumpsters, and almost all of them hadn’t been emptied that week.

Thus starts Steve into the War, part Two. He plans elaborate sorties with the Enemy, delicate dances of contact at pre-strategized points. There are constantly and randomly changing routes, determined while in transit. Aerial surveillance. Action plans that have action plans. Escape routes if engagement turns untenable 22. It easily becomes one of the longest and most involved ops Clint has ever been on, and he’s been loaned to various international VASGOs and military institutions.

“Evasive maneuvers!” becomes a word of everyone’s nightmares. (Even Nat, and she lived for evasive maneuvers.)

* * *

 

(Sam regularly reminds himself that _it is entirely his own damn fault for getting involved with Steven Grant Rogers because he could have just let the buff man ‘on-his-left’ to his Star-Spangled Heart’s Delight but noooooooooooooo Sam just had to be competitive and try and race._ He regularly reminds himself of this as he flies _aerial reconnaissance in the middle of a neighborhood._ He reminds himself of this when he has to _dive bomb the Neighborhood Association_. He especially reminds himself of this _when he has to dodge projectiles thrown by civilians_. Sam swears there is _nothing_ he ever did in a past life that warrants him getting this come-uppance, much less the wake of sheer crazy that trails the U.S.S. Rogers. _The coffee is not worth it_.

He also lodges a complaint with a friendly neighborhood VASGO along these lines, in triplicate, because he did not sign up for this, it was definitely not in the job description, thank you very much, the Better Business Bureau and Occupational Health and Safety Administration will be hearing about this. Granted, he’s not likely to hear back on this issue, since Nat’s cat is currently using the forms as a nap tower and he knows it, but the filling and filing of said complaint was cathartic. _The scones were definitely worth it._ )

* * *

 

It might have been borne of the various and sundry residents of sleepy BedStuy if this had been the end of the various shenanigans that Hawkeye and Hawkeye brought to their neck of the woods. In fact, the coffee and the scones more than made up for the various … _characters_ that ended up in their neck of the woods. Sure, sometimes you had to pretend to be blind and decidedly _not_ notice that a particular patron was doing a terrible job at hiding their identity, _looking at you Loki – the horns and the green are a dead giveaway_ , or that an individual wasn’t precisely altogether human or meeting Health Code Standards, _seriously Squirrel Girl_. But it was worth it.

What was absolutely _not_ to be borne was the knock-down-drag-out fights that would have been better suited to a bar not a neighborhood coffee shop. Insurance rates went through the roof, and there were only so many times insurance agents were willing to use the technicality of “Act of God” for a claim. It wasn’t so big a deal when it was just two Hawkeyes, because the Hawkeyes were nominally Earth human standard23. Even the dog was Earth canine standard! But, aliens? Gods from myth and legend? Billionaires and advanced technology? Actual magic? Various mutants, and their helter-skelter powers?

Small comfort was the fact that the Shop paid for damages, though the _extent_ of “damages” was often …. Not exactly the standard definition of the word. It was like Russian Roulette of what sort of minor catastrophe one would wake up to in the morning. It could be a minor annoyance of having all your appliances turned pastel because the Magical Boy misspoke, or having your furniture turned into tastefully upholstered reproductions of King Edward VII’s favorite furniture24 because of reasons like _waking up in an altered timeline_. Or it could be rudely awakened by the brisance of grenades, or masonry buckling under the pressure of impact. Worse still were the times when a star-shaped portal was punched through where the entrance to your bathroom once was, and you had to contemplate breaking into a neighbor’s place just to use a bathroom hours later _since it still wasn’t closed_. Humans could only clean so much drywall dust and plaster out of places ( _or risk a urinary tract infection so often)_ before things became untenable.

* * *

 

(What the neighborhood _really_ ought to have not borne was the issue of _explosive materia around a Hawkeye_.)

(Clearly, they didn’t learn from the Boomerang Arrow.)

* * *

 

In a turn of events weirder than that Time with the Sleigh 25, several events occur at approximately the same time.

First, and most importantly, the Hawkeyes are cleared to keep their Taser Arrow in their quivers on the condition that they tone down the voltage, being able to jump start lighthouses is Concerning.

Second, there is a dearth of milk. There is some talk in the news about mundane reasons for this, perfectly civilian reasons. The price of milk goes up, nothing too concerning, it will all sort itself out.

Third, the Coffee Shop comes under magical attack.

* * *

 

That last point is Important, not simply because of the subsequent rioting and new Neighborhood Association Ordinances, but because of all the things Clint thought to have the Coffee Shop protected against, magical attack was not one of them. And until proven otherwise, there was not substantive evidence that it was an Act of God/Immortal/ Universal Constant 26.

Dr. Strange, Wanda, and Billy were all offended.

“We come here, a safe place, to work on young William’s _talents_ , and it was never appropriately warded?”

“Strange, it’s not like we don’t put up our own wards.  Are you implying that they are not sufficient?”

“Wanda, that is not the point. The point is that if we had even the slightest breach, we could rip apart the time stream in a fit of temper. Also, this tea is absolutely awful, did you remember to boil the water first?”

“Hey! Just because we have to ability to change time doesn’t mean you have to be a bag of – ,” Billy is quickly cut off by Kate thrusting a cute puppy video into his face, Wanda hushed by having a scone shoved into her outraged mouth, and Dr. Strange gets his tea “replaced”.27

This discussion does not change the fact that the shop is under magical attack. Billy and Wanda put up wards, and Clint increases the amount of the Good Stuff that Luck and Fortune get daily on their shrine in the back, but the events get more and more wild as time increases.

Flying sharks were manageable – nominally only because the sharks were palm sized and only really managed to tickle in their attempts to gnaw on humans. The dragons were adorable, blorping and bleping in odd places, awkwardly noodle-y and soft, tongues peeking out and chasing after round things rolled on surfaces, curling up and napping like neon cats in inconvenient places 28. There was a giant Snorlax once too, and the shop had a massive joint naptime, though there were only so many horizontal spaces to nap and people ended up with more than one bump, bruise, limbs with pins-and-needles, and kinks in their joints. Then there was the frankly disturbing massive slime monster with the single eyeball that oozed and consumed anything in its path. The eight legged reindeer caused Clint to pour himself a dodeca-shot espresso and toss it back like water, and Kate to open the stash of the Good Stuff and liberally spike her coffee.

The Dementors are Actually Awful, because they actually did try to suck people’s souls out of their body, and the only way to deal with the situation was to make everything mocha and expressively curse 29 down the phone at S.H.E.I.L.D. _because they need to know if there is a Hogwarts for safety reasons._ In keeping with the English Isle Monster theme, the following two events include: Weeping Angels, a Giant Carnivorous Loch Ness Monster 30 , and a Unicorn. The Ambassadors from the United Kingdoms may or may not have blacklisted the Shop’s telephone number.

The following incident brings excessive vertigo and nausea as a mass event that comes on mid-morning, so the Shop is closed until the event ends some three days later, and until the Health Inspectors are certain it wasn’t the Shop poisoning everyone. The incident immediately after brings strobe lights and everything made of extremely fragile glass. The EMTs, already friendly with the Hawkeyes due to repeat custom, get the workout of their lives and the units are still evenly divided if they enjoyed the challenge or want to throttle the Hawkeyes 31. The Catbus from Studio Ghibili was a nice addition to the repertoire, if only because it slinked and bounded across the city quickly and was free.

The next _next_32 occurrence comes replete with massive alligators, possibly crocodiles, or caimans. Neither Kate nor Clint is a herpetologist, or what have you, so they spend the day letting Professionals try to herd 10 grumpy 20- foot reptiles into a truck to be taken wherever reptiles get taken. It goes about as well as herding cats, except with more scales and more attempts at chomping off limbs. Everyone ignores the fact that there may or may not still be a massive anaconda in the vents.

One run in from the Swarm from Halo, Velociraptors from _Jurassic Park_ , and Giant Tentacle Monsters 33, and Strange was placated into doing wards. These Emphatically Did Not Help.

The next event was perfectly mundane – there were announcements of an expected milk shortage. This was quickly overshadowed by giant space whales that dropped car-sized barnacles everywhere, closely followed by a massive amount of murderous clown dolls. A rather concerning number of Xenomorphs came the next day, and the neighborhood was covered in flames 34. There were also several chest-bursting injuries, but the affected survived.

There were several hurried discussions on magic, the various types, and more than one all-nighter trying to research information about what sort of magic could be causing this series of disturbances, but everything came up snake eyes. No one was pleased.

Things came to head with a 30-foot-tall Jason vs. Godzilla fight, when the Neighborhood Association Head, a kindly 70-year-old lady whose snickerdoodles were to die for, started a riot. What everyone failed to remember is that lady was raised by a drill sergeant father, and then ran Girl Scout troops while teaching self-defense to ladies of all types in the 70s and 80s. She’d had it up to here with the type of nonsense going on, and if she wasn’t going to do something about it, then who would? Also, she had taken part in her fair share of demonstrations, by dint of experience she was leader.

So while Billy worked on magicking the issue Away, and the rest of the Avengers tried to contain the damage, the Neighborhood Association rioted. Full on torches and pitchforks. Some people got into it and cosplayed medieval villagers. There was supposed to have been chanting, but exploded masonry and general dust/ smoke issues put a stop to that quickly.

The riot, for all the torches and pitchfork-ing, was remarkably well managed and non-destructive. At worst there was minor property damage to a city tree because of a mis-adjusted torch, but no one would be able to figure out if it was monster damage or human damage unless someone squealed. Since the mob did not have a permit to be demonstrating or the like, _there would be no squealing_.

{Of course, no demonstration was ever planned around mass city destruction, and really did no one think that for giant monsters (plus giant chainsaw), there might be issues with the structural integrity of everything? Including the pavement? Honestly, the nerve of event planners these days.}

A handful of people were lost to the subway tunnels, and the mob marched on. (Really, someone should have just planned ahead and had everyone meet at a certain Central Landmark. Everything happened there anyways, might as well requisition it for a bit of public disobedience.) They neared their destination, and then things went Left.

A Certain Magical Cape-Wearing Individual 34 Who Shalt Not Be Named got whacked by a Certain Giant Reptile’s Tail, and Promptly Flew 30 Yards into Another Group of People, Just as A Certain Incantation Was Completed. All went Away.

The Monsters kept crashing on.

The mob stopped dead. A Certain Mob Leader, already completely Done, gave up. “For &$*%^# SAKE!” She screamed. The sentiment was largely shared, and thus the mob gained momentum in an incredibly rapid and threatening manner. Jason and Godzilla never knew what hit them.

* * *

 

Kate watched, horrified, as the metaphorical equivalent of a swarm of fire ants took apart a small primate and a small lizard unfolded before her eyes.

Clint was a bit too busy arguing with the rest of the heroes on hand to take much notice of the fire and screaming. “Neither of us used a Boomerang Arrow! There was no warping of the Laws of Physics! There will be no warping of the Laws of Physics! Strange will have to get back on his own! He’s a magician for The Universal Constant’s Sake!”

* * *

 

15 hours later, after the people who had dropped into the sewers came back looking a bit more like trees than usual, and the individuals who had taken out not one but two 30-foot-tall monsters had been corralled, and the individuals transported to Away (wherever that was) had yet to return, there was a Sit Down.

It was a closed door Sit Down, and had all the austerity and sobriety of one from a mafia movie. Granted, only a select handful of people really knew what occurred, as it was held in the secure safe room built into the back of the Coffee Shop’s refrigerator, but Sam swears he saw the President of the United States of America get snuck in at some point 36.

Several batches of coffee and one scone break later, there seemed to be some agreement between the parties.

A very haggard Captain America, a terrified Hawkeye, and a little old lady with the better part of a giant purple afghan knitted exited the room with all the aplomb of a group of individuals who had Seen Things.

Several Announcements were made that day 37. First, the heroes would have their various Magical Types ward their homes and businesses against all conceivable types of damage, but also cannot guarantee that there are not more powerful entities that will rend such protection moot at some point in the future. Second, the neighborhood at large will not blame the Avengers or other groups for any damage incurred. Third, those passing through will clean up after themselves, if and when possible. Finally, there would be no more attempts to steal, kidnap, or follow A J.B.B. Baker for baked goods. Any and all baked good procurement would be done with legal tender in the Coffee Shop during normal business hours. Any breaking of these Accords would be met with severe repercussions.

No one wanted to argue with a lady who had just repeatedly stabbed Godzilla in the eye with a knitting needle.

* * *

 

Of course, these Accords did not in fact stop the magical attacks. Nowhere in the Accords did it state it was against the Preservation of the Peace to attack the Coffee Shop in any way shape or form 38. So the attacks continued.

Attacks ranged in nuisance level, from constantly changing the ringtone on phones to Nyan Cat and having everyone speak in mutually unintelligible gibberish 39 to selective pockets of reversed gravity. That last one had people and items drifting off into space at inopportune times, more than one fetch quest was dispatched to prevent people from suffocating.

The maned wolves were a cute addition, and surprisingly interested in raspberries. And oranges. And soft, and shy but affectionate. The subsequent grey wolf-sized ducks were not 40.

It wasn’t until someone mentioned that they had seen a documentary on maned wolves last week did the pieces begin to piece together. After some very concerning Google searches, and a few research rabbit holes, there is enough links to confidentially say that _someone_ _somewhere_ has a very eclectic taste in television. And a very alarming imagination.

Kate, having binged the recent historical Sherlock Holmes-based Dog Cops episode, declared that, “The Game Was On!” and went to hunt down a deerstalker in purple. Every other fairly competent individual was pressganged into hunting down whatever was doing … _whatever it was doing41 and putting a stop to it._

{What is plot-conveniently overlooked in this time of harried searching is that _there’s an extreme milk shortage, yet there seemed to be plenty of people with milk._ Also, the anaconda had relocated.}

* * *

 

After some Cloak and Dagger … involvement, a particular Sister Grimm was _inclined_ to use a spell or two to get to the bottom of the manifestation situation 42. Not that particularly explained anything, but considering the amount of bartering and concessions that ended up being made, it was well worth it to add the generalized locale for a search party – BedStuy, surprise surprise – and Strange was stuck around America’s home dimension 43.  America was dispatched on a fetch quest, and a search grid was drawn up and promptly lost to Old Lace 44.

Other issues quickly became apparent: namely that there were a fair number of residents in BedStuy. What were they even screening for? Were they supposed to go round with questionnaires about television programs? Did they even have authorization for that sort of thing? The logistical nightmare compounded exponentially.

Wanda makes tea, and Billy sneaks out the back. A certain grandfather once-removed-by-rebirth is waiting with a certain ex-best-friend and they drive off to the sound of bickering 45.

* * *

 

It is around this time that there is a sudden outcropping of harpies, and any and all discussion of Current Events get thrown to the wayside. The only positive of what turns into a long and grueling affair of charades is that Sam gets a rather alarming amount of numbers from what amounted to dimensionally-lost migrating bird ladies 46.

They also get back Strange, Wanda, Bruce, and Noh-Varr lead by one America, plus an assortment of snacks.

{This is the beginning of the end.}

* * *

 

“Clint, we’re out of milk. They drank us out.”

“At home or the Shop.”

“Shop.”

“Aw, milk, _no._ ”

* * *

 

To be fair, no one expected there to be a milk shortage of this nature. The news was well known for making things exponentially more dire than they really were – take for instance Steve going to visit Peggy, and a visit later coming down with an acute case of _dying_. Milk could have certainly been shipped in via refrigeration, after all the entire country couldn’t be in a milk crisis.

But no, the shops and suppliers were all out. Completely and Utterly dry. Yet, there was more than one person, when called, who said they had milk, but only just enough.

“This is like Prohibition,” idly commented Steve, who would have barely been alive to know, the lying liar who traitorously traitored 47. Everyone else nodded in agreement, because _what even_.

“Noh-Varr, do you even know what Prohibition _is_?” Kate asked, hanging up the phone on her Informant 48.

“Katherine, that is not important.”

“ _Clinton Francis Barton you do not full name me.”_

The ensuing tussle is not worth further description, as it was the rolling equivalent of a slap fight, only much less dignified and ended with both individuals stuck in a corner under the stairs, and ended in less than 5 minutes.

Once extracted, our heroes left the magicking to the magical types and put on their best gumshoe getups and set to work to put the “detective” into “Detective Hawkeye” 49.

They detected a very strange series of individuals in the area, plus several more delivery vans and instances of sewer work than the city had ever let them know about beforehand.

“The mafia.” Clint declared around a mouthful of ice cream.

“The mafia wasn’t involved,” Kate sighed, exasperated.

“A Cow Mafia.” Clint slammed his fit into his palm, certain, then deflated, “… Would they be a Triad instead? Cow Bratva?”

“Miss, is that man alright?”

“No, but he wasn’t alright before I met him, so ….”

“Ah….”

“… yeah. Oh, hey, gotta take this, thanks for the ice cream!” Kate fled.

* * *

 

Billy had reappeared with assurances that any and all searches for a manifesting mutant child should be called off, the situation was contained, but that wasn’t the least of it. Apparently there was a Lehnsherr-Maximoff-Kaplan-Shepherd family reunion going on, and there was screaming and rage and enough booze to knock out Logan’s and Wade’s respective livers.

“So, your apartment is a no go; they found the kid responsible,” Kate began, hanging up her phone wearily. “We should probably close the Shop tomorrow, because I don’t do hungover, screamed-out, tired, enraged, passive-aggressive, still-drunk or any combination thereof heroes. Thoughts?”

“The city has no record of any sewer work being done in the area.” Both comments were made in quick succession, and as silence descended, the pair stared at each other.

“What do you mean _no record_?”

“What do you mean _my apartment?_ ”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by Lucky lapping at the ice cream that had fallen off of Clint’s cone.

Simultaneously, once more, “ _Awwww, sewers, no.”_

* * *

 

“Clint, recognize that I ask this because _your life is a disaster and you probably know from first hand experience_ and that I respect and admire you anyways. Tell me, do you know how to get sewer smell out of clothes? And how to get them sanitized?”

There is no truer test of friendship that having to explore sewer systems in search of illicit cows/ a dairy smuggling ring. Every movement was stealthy, and the route marked explicitly. Two expert marksmen trusting only their wits and skills to get to the bottom of hijinks. Two stealthy shadows, one of whom’s cell phone vibrated loudly against their gear.

“What is that?”

“Pokemon Alarm. Hang on, gotta catch this.”

“Well, hurry up.”

It was the sound of this hushed conversation that drew the attention of some owl-earred lookouts, who descended upon them with all the subtlety of a thunderstorm during a hurricane. That is to say, there was hail, in the form of bullets and fleeing into side tunnels until there was no trace of pursuit heard.

“Well, that’s already gotten out of hand. Did you at least catch the pokemon?”

“Of course!”

“So about that sewer smell?”

“Yeah?”

“Has it gotten…. I don’t know…. _particularly more bovine?_ ”

“Look, just because I –“

Whichever Hawkeye was speaking was interrupted by the lowing of cows.

“Nevermind. Cows dead ahead.”

“You don’t say.”

* * *

 

“You know, I really really hope you have a plan for this, Clint”

“We just snuck through sewer tunnels, do you think there’s a plan?”

“Then why are _we in the tunnels?!”_

“I feel like I should be offended that you think I don’t have a plan.”

“Clint I am on my stomach lying on a slimey mossy sewage-y walkway in a sewer. You had better at least have an end goal.”

“The plan is forthcoming, but the end goal is milk. We have a business to run.”

“…. Fair enough.”

“So we move on three?”

“Why are we rushing these guys?”

“They look like the farming type. I know that type. You don’t mess with that type.” Clint hopped onto his haunches. “… Three.”

Bows came up and Farming Types were surprise attacked with Paleolithic Era sticks and strings.

* * *

 

See, what the Hawkeyes hadn’t noticed, in all the hub-bub, was a singular news story of some farmers in the Tri-State Area missing cows. Sure, it was a small story. Only a handful of farmers here and there, with massive herds that could easily make up for the loss of some old heifers. And really, salmonella in all the milk lines was more of a concern.

In not noticing the story, what the Hawkeyes missed was that the missing cows came _a priori_ to the diseased milk 50.

{Brace yourself.}

* * *

 

No one should be surprised that cows are not particularly fans of surprise attacks. They are peaceful mammals, preferring to chew their cud and plod about fields than get ambushed. And two ton bulks of skeletons are not particularly accommodating of surprise attacks.

Read: the cows flipped out. There were screaming cows, baying cows, bucking cows, panicking cows, all the while there are arrows and human screaming and impacts and fist fights and bashed machinery. American currency flies through the air and bodies thump, and cows break loose.

Somewhere in this nonsense, back up arrives for the Farm Types, and the Hawkeyes, at the mouth of the service tunnel the operation is based out of come to the mutually arrived at decision to Flee. Upon seeing the humans flee, the cows decide to join in.

“Clint, you might not have noticed, but there’s a stampede of cows following us.”

“Really? Man this brings back memories.”

“Really?”

“No!”

“So what are we going to do?”

“The only thing we can do,” Clint ducked as bullets dinged against the sewer walls, “fire back.” 51

So Clint and Kate reach for arrows, and grab the one item that is Not Recommended in a methane gas-filled sewer, along with the gases of several hundred cows.

The Taser Arrow.

* * *

 

For those of you who do not recall basic physics, explosions occur because of some substance that is unstable (here, methane) comes in contact with a spark (here, electricity). This results in a massive release of kinetic energy in the form of heat and light (also known as an explosion.)

Clint and Kate have a singular moment to gaze in horror at the flying arrows before they both hit the ground covering their heads 52.

The resultant explosion shot fire out of the sewer holes across the entirety of Brooklyn, and set several places on fire. The cows came out singed.

{Told you there’d be an explosion.}

* * *

 

Clint breathed in the pure oxygen being piped into his lungs from his favorite EMT, a little scorched, a little sooty, and mostly blank as his little coffee shop burned. The police milled about, dragging Farming Types from the sewers, and cuffed. The air smelled of burned dairy products and smoke, with fires blazing across the skyline.

Kate, a little singed, a little sooty, mostly sewer grimy, poked her head in front of the Avenger. “Hey, Clint, is the blood vendetta against the firefighters still on? They want to know before they get any closer.”

* * *

 

(Several months later, the little coffee shop reopened, under a new name: Ground Zero, because might as well call a spade a spade. Also, the Neighborhood Association Willed It, because safety hazards must be properly labeled.)

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

1\. [read: loses a Fight.]↩

2\. [“‘VASGO’ does not make a particularly catchy acronym, Howard. Nor is it palatable in general.” 

“Look, Peggy, if it walks like a duck…..”]↩

3\. [The man calls his dog “Pizza Dog”, because the dog likes pizza. Did you expect anything more?.]↩

4\. [“If there’s no evidence, it’s hearsay.” 

“Scott, that’s not how the law works.”

“Can you prove I was involved?”

*sigh* “No.”

“Then as far as anyone can prove, I am an ex-con who has paid his debt to society and is now simply a citizen who upholds the spirit of the law in his daily life.” 

“We are never letting you do a press conference. Ever.”]↩

5\. [Bruce and Vision abstain from the stuff, and Thor is a bit too alien for it to have an effect (though he loves the taste). However, the Young Avengers are technically banned from touching the stuff as minors and because it Could Be Hazardous to Your Health (We Haven’t Tested It, Okay?!).

Jokes on the Avengers, ‘cause they have a Kate, who is Also Hawkeye, and she keeps them supplied with marginally nicer coffee.

“That margin is statistically significant!”]↩

6\. [“Clint, what is your face even doing in this picture.” 

“What picture?” 

“This one, on Billy’s Twitter.Oh look, he tagged you. And location tagged Coffee Shop.” 

(Really Kate, that should have been your first warning.)]↩

7\. [David Allyene has had odder conversations with Loki, but seeing as no one can quite figure out how or why a Pokémon Go Gym would further plans for World Domination – and did they try – he does it. ]↩

8\. [“Kate, come here and help me retake the Coffee Shop from the Air Force!” 

“Clint. What even.”

“Pokémon. Sam and Rhodey conquered the Coffee Shop for Team Mystic. I’m retaking it in the name of ….. no, Charmander, no!” 

“Right.” Kate takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Let me get my phone then we’ll take back the gym.” 

“Katie-Kate you are amazing and clearly perfect.”]↩

9\. [In the top right corner is set of lines demarking a box, partially covered by a very small target with two arrows (one splitting the other) through the bullseye; reading in bold capital chalk letters, “DAYS SINCE LAST INCIDENT: 0” The “0” is predictably on a section of chalkboard that is dusty with use.]↩

10\. [The kind that needs Heroic Intervention.]↩

11\. [Clint was involved. Do things ever go as planned when Clint is involved? (Rhetorical question. The answer is unequivocally NO.)]↩

12\. [No less than 5 hours later, the firefighter who lived down the block recaptured the site for Team Valor. Clint had insofar failed to capture/ recapture his store, and was three attempts from declaring a blood vendetta against the firefighters and/or Team Valor in general. Kate and Nat had popcorn ready for the carnage. ]↩

13\. [This is a sweeping generalization and should be taken with a grain of salt. For example, I once met a cop who liked tea. Tea for Luck and Fortune’s sake, hot leaf water. Clearly someone didn’t get the memo about police standards and code of conduct. ]↩

14\. [This is how the doughnut and police trope began, with police purchasing coffee and getting free pastry to encourage return patronage and dissuade vagrants and miscreants. Alas, our intrepid heroes (Hawkeyes) are more generally vagrants and miscreants and only law abiding citizens by way of Jedi-Mind-Tricks-this-is-not-the-droid-you’re-looking-for by your Friendly Neighborhood VASGO.]↩

15\. [“Clint the police are not nefarious.” 

“I have met The Police before. They are most certainly nefarious.” 

“…. I can’t tell if you meant the band or the organization of law enforcement?”

“…. Yes.”

“…. This is like that time in Budapest isn’t it. No, I don’t actually want to know.”]↩

16\. [“Would you like a pastry with that, officer?”

The officer stares at the younger Hawkeye, the one who shot five freakin’ arrows at once and had them all be nonlethal hits, the Hawkeye that was glamourous, capable, and still perfectly capable of handing him his spleen on a plate without breaking a sweat, and trains with THE Black Widow on the reg, oh God she asked him something she was STARING AT HIM, QUICK ANSWER, “Of course.” Oh God what had he gotten himself into? Getting involved with Hawkeye(s) was a bad idea. He was married with kids he couldn’t afford to have disasters happening. 

“Which one?” WhicH ONE? What did she mean?! WhaT HAD HE JUST AGREED TO?! Oh God oh God oH GOD. REGRET. SUCH REGRET. “Um… all of them?” 

ABORT ABORT HAWKEYE IS GIVING HIM A STRANGE LOOK. HAWKEYE IS GIVING HIM A STRANGE LOOK. HIS PARTNER WAS GIVING HIM A STRANGE LOOK TOO OH NO HAD A DISASTER ALREADY HAPPENED?!?! DID THE CURSE OF HAWKEYE WORK SO QUICKLY?!?! Time to speed walk away from the scene of the crime, as if suddenly super busy, sorry. 

“Is he alright?” he heard Hawkeye ask concernedly. He double timed and quickly resolved to never set foot in the Coffee Shop ever again. No matter the fact that it was gym. No battle against Valor and the sooty Firefighters was worth the stress. 

(“I’m just going to send these with compliments to the 15th precinct Brooklyn, okay? Your partner seemed really out of it.”)]↩

17\. [To this day, it is used as a training example of the Bad Old Days in the Academy, and how modern methods were clearly superior. No matter that it only ended last month. 

The theological schools and seminaries were baffled by the uptick in enrollment of prospective new men and women of Religion. They weren’t looking a gift horse in the mouth, certainly, but they couldn’t overlook several hundred street-hardened individuals suddenly and quietly enrolling, or in some cases joining monasteries and convents.]↩

18\. [it still wasn’t pretty.]↩

19\. [They already were turning a blind eye to a scruffy looking fellow who regularly delivered the baked goods, because he delivered baked goods made of the stuff of legend and he only looked like a particular one-armed Super Soldier is you squinted right and held your head upside-down while chanting matins at dawn]↩

20\. [To be fair, it wasn’t so much audacity as Certain Carnie Gods were involved.]↩

21\. [James Buchanan Barnes is a Super Soldier Delivering Scones to two Avengers. After first half-dozen sallies, Steve tags along. Making the grand total two Super Soldiers, grand total three Avengers. Mostly, Clint is surprised at the level of skill the people of BedStuy have in planning and executing ambushes; they hold their own well. Almost makes him feel redundant.]↩

22\. [For a given value of “planned”. Really, Steve only planned things out in broad strokes, details were generally light, if ever given, and mostly some variation of “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” or as Bucky opined and Sam mourned, “Flying by the seat of his Star-Spangled Spandex.” ]↩

23\. [Nominally, because that aim was plain unnatural.]↩

24\. [The official cause of death for the ancient Mrs. Kim is a heart attack. The unofficial cause of death is the various siege de amor her living room set was turned into – after all she was a historian with a particular interest in Edwardian England.]↩

25\. [THAT THEY DO NOT DISCUSS BECAUSE OF REASONS. ]↩

26\. [Luck and Fortune were Universal Constants, as Clint argued at volume, and thus were definitely warded against with “Don’t Notice Here” charms. They were replaced religiously and with much drinking on a bi-weekly basis.]↩

27\. [And by replaced, Kate brings out the full tea service, including boiling kettle and “trips” such that Strange gets a lapful of boiling water. Of course, this is a complete accident, and clearly she tripped over his cape, she’s only human after all, she’s so sorry, is the good doctor okay?There might still be enough water for a new cup? 

Kate is Not Sorry, and Dr. Strange leaves with a pinched look on his face (ostensibly because of his shrunken leather pants, now too tight across the hips and thighs.)]↩

28\. [Though a grizzled Asian man in hipster clothes took one look at the display of rainbow dragons and dragged his cigar-smelling (boy)friend in the cowboy hat and boots out looking like he had seen a ghost.]↩

29\. [“I never knew you could use that word in the present participle.” Kate sounded awed.

“Things you learn as a Carnie.”]↩

30\. [No word if it was the original or a copy, and Kate was just about fed up with Scotland anyways.]↩

31\. [To be fair, EMS are only nominally on the Hawkeye side in the blood vendetta involving the Hawkeyes, the Police, and the Fire Department. The Police are outraged that the Hawkeyes have a blood vendetta going on with the Fire Department, because only they are allowed to have a blood vendetta with the Fire Department. The Hawkeyes will take any and all the help they can get.]↩

32\. [No one can remember the previous event, but they know it happened because they, well, “woke up” for lack of a better term, three days later without any clue why there were scorch marks everywhere. There was a small but dedicated group (mostly physicists) bound and determined to figure out what happened, mainly because SCIENCE! but also one of them has a burnt in bald stripe and would really, really like to know how she got it.]↩

33\. [NOT THE FUN KIND.]↩

34\. [Kate got to use a flamethrower. Clint was banned. ]↩

35\. [Though, come to think of it, most Magical Characters in this wear capes. Is there a standardized costume code for the magical these days? Are they required to have a cape, or a cape-like garment of some kind? Has no one informed them of the dangers of capes?]↩

36\. [Though where the President went, no one was particularly sure.]↩

37\. [Several other Announcements were made, including but not limited to: “Oh hey, that’s where my left shoe went!”, “I figured out how to get lizard blood out of polyester!”, and “Did someone order pizza?”]↩

38\. [Knitting needles clacked ominously in the firelight; Clint was disappointed but did not voice it. Natasha gazed on adoringly at the plush black sweater that was coming together and held a massive ball of yarn like it was an offering to the Heavens. Kate inconspicuously checked for drugs.]↩

39\. [Even ASL went gibberish. Kate proudly recorded the event, and was working on having it turned into the actual pidgin language of the Sign Language Using community.]↩

40\. [Clint had nightmares about ducks. Ducks in the coffee bean roaster. Ducks in the dishwasher. Ducks entering the shop dressed like the little girls in Madeline, Ducks with monocles and spats/ Ducks with teeth and scales and talons. Ducks with clearly robotic parts and the inability to not break things. Ducks dressed as Lady Gaga, voguing. Just, Ducks. ]↩

41\. [Strange and Tony were sidelined on account of being (questionably loveable) assholes. Also, because they went AWOL to build a magic-technology hybrid, with Bruce supervising. There were bets related to if and when the Avengers Tower would explode, and how.]↩

42\. [That was what the consensus was on what to call the situation. ]↩

43\. [“Your ‘Dr. Strange’ really needs to stop being arrogant. He’d have been home much earlier otherwise.” Sister Grimm looked particularly at ease glowering, but that might have been the velociraptor backing her up.

Kate and America were enraptured, and were officially friends with the Runaway. There were talks of a joint team party at some point.]↩

44\. [It wasn’t particularly important, but it was interesting to note that a giant velociraptor was bribable with a game of fetch with Sam. Also, she had issues with Captain America.]↩

45\. [It sounded like a very old married couple fighting, but then don’t all the best friendships sound like that after a time? Though Billy resolved to call them both grandpa and grandfather because why not? ]↩

46\. [“Congrats,” deadpans Bucky in full Winter Soldier regalia, “You’ve finally hit it off with chicks.” 

The subsequent slap fight causes a small disturbance with the flock, as it puts Bucky on their radar. 

“Congrats,” snarks back Sam, covered in ladies tending to his reddened hands to a similarly mobbed Bucky, “You’ve finally hit it off with chicks.”]↩

47\. [Bucky nodded sagely, but that could have been at Lucky, who had barked in response to the question if he was a “good dog”. He was summarily put on the “Watch For Traitorous Activity” by Clint and wiped off by Kate, who understood self-preservation if only because Nat. ]↩

48\. [“Reynolds, I need you to talk to your cousin, Jamie-with-the-Glasses. Yes, I know, he’s in with the Italians and I live in the Russian part of town. Do it anyways.” ]↩

49\. [“Clint, I’m a PI, not a detective.” ]↩

50\. [Frankly, if by this point you can’t smell the plot relevance, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s not like I planned it like that or anything. ]↩

51\. [This was a Mistake, because Clint is a Carnie and his Gods of Luck and Fortune are Kindly Smiling Gods of Murphy’s Law. Read: things go wrong, predictably.]↩

52\. [Someone really ought to comment on how practiced the motion was – almost like they had been in one too many explosions previous and had the motion ingrained as muscle memory. ]↩

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the read!


End file.
